


There's a first time for everything

by Mraowface



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 600 words of gratuitous blowjob description, 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Angst and Humor, Crowley shouts at his own erect penis, Eventual Smut, First Time, M/M, Thank Someone we invented alcohol, The inevitable downward slide into BDSM, Virgin Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mraowface/pseuds/Mraowface
Summary: Crowley struggles with physical intimacy.  He's been repressing his sexuality for a mere 6,000 years...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 63
Kudos: 214





	1. Chapter 1

Aziraphale sighed and leaned his head closer to the bathroom door. He thought he could hear Crowley's raised voice, interspersed with angry hissing. It was all very confusing.

“Crowley dear, do you think you could open this door?”

Silence. And then quiet sobbing.

Seeing that the door was very much staying shut for now, Aziraphale crept off to the kitchen, and returned with tea miraculously quickly.

Aziraphale sank onto the floor, back against the offending bathroom door.

“I'm right here Crowley, I'm not going anywhere.”

Inside the bathroom, Crowley was thanking Somebody that Aziraphale kept a wine stash in the bathroom. Ok, maybe he _couldn't_ hole up in here indefinitely. But a couple of years seemed reasonable. Right now, he just wanted to get steaming drunk.

Legs sprawled over the side of the bath, Crowley drank from the first of many wine bottles. If Aziraphale wasn't going anywhere then well, neither was he. Shame napping in the bathroom wasn't the ideal use of the next few years, and baths weren't as comfortable as beds, but the booze would surely help with getting him off to a good start.

The morning had honestly started off great. Sharing a bed with Aziraphale was weird, but it turned out that there were few things Crowley loved better than being held, and waking up to the smell of his angel. He'd felt surprised he hadn't felt any anxiety lying there, but it had really felt like the most natural thing in the world.

And breakfast had been good too. He'd already installed his espresso machine in the kitchen, and Aziraphale had positively squirmed at the sight of the pastries he'd brought. Crowley now resented how perfect the morning had seemed. Fucking moron should have seen it coming.

Crowley groaned as he remembered how Aziraphale had plumped himself down in his favourite armchair, all set to dip into some Catullus. And that hadn't seemed fair. Crowley had barely moved in, and already he was having to share Aziraphale with ancient Greeks. So he'd grabbed the book out of his angel's arms, and swung a leg over, to sit straddled on Aziraphale's lap. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

They'd kissed before, it should have been fine. But something about being so close, so much contact, had _done_ something to him. And Aziraphale had looked down, had _seen_...1 Suddenly they weren't kissing, they were both just staring down at the bulge in Crowley's crotch, and Aziraphale had let out a tiny startled 'Oh!' At which point, the demon bolted.

And now he was trapped in this offensively soothing bathroom, with only a moderately large wine stash, and he still had that fucking uncalled for hard on.

Crowley cautiously unzipped his jeans.2 He hissed loudly when his insultingly erect penis bobbed into view. This was all new to him, but he gave in to a deeper instinct. He shouted.

“What the utter _heaven_ do you think you're playing at? Six thousand years we get along fine, and then you do this to me! He is fucking _off limits_. You know this. So call this- this whatever it is off, or else I'll...” Crowley trailed off into a hiss.3

He could tell Aziraphale was still outside the door. The angelic bastard would probably wait out there for weeks. It was a good thing he had the wine.

When Crowley was part-way through his third bottle, his heart had softened. So had his erection. He'd only moved in with Aziraphale yesterday, and the angel might miss him if he stayed barricaded in the bathroom for the next two years. He might also miss the bathroom.

So, very much against his better judgement, he held up a swaying hand and made the door click itself unlocked.

1And possibly even felt

2The zip was under somewhat more pressure than usual.

3It now occurred to him that once you were thinking of threatening your own penis with the incinerator, it might be time to de-escalate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valvopus: come see me in the bathroom. I'll show you my wine stash...


	2. Chapter 2

To say that Aziraphale was surprised at Crowley's drunken state would be a lie. It was in fact the only part of the past few hours that made any sense to him. So when the lock clicked, he opened the door quietly, and approached the tub with caution.

Crowley was not looking at his best. He'd miracled himself a pair of defensive sunglasses, but still held a hand up to his face to shield Aziraphale's view of him. The other hand clutched a near-empty wine bottle.

Aziraphale crouched by the bathtub, and put what he hoped was a soothing hand on Crowley's nearest sprawling leg. When he spoke, it was in a calm, measured tone.

“Dearest, can you tell me what's going on?”

The demon shook his head. “Ssssorry...”

“Ok, do you think sobering up would help?”

Emphatic shaking of head, accompanied with waving of wine bottle.

Aziraphale considered matters thoroughly. Then, taking several of his fluffiest towels, he laid them in the half of the bath not currently occupied by Crowley, chose an interesting vintage from the remaining wine selection, and climbed into the tub next to the demon.

“Well, if you won't slow down, I'd better catch up.” He willed the cork out of the bottle and took a hefty swig.

They drank in silence for several minutes. Crowley finally cracked after Aziraphale's fifth compassionate sigh.

“'m sorry, Zira....”

“Love, did I do something wrong?”

At this point Crowley let out a heartfelt sob. “No, Zira, it's always me. Always fucking things up.”

Aziraphale reached out to squeeze the demon's free hand. They both drank.

“Crowley, I don't understand. We were having a lovely time I thought, and then suddenly you were gone... I need to know if I did something to hurt you.”

“ _No._ It'sss never been you. S'always me. I'm not supposed to feel...” Crowley trailed off, and went back to checking for answers in the remaining wine sediment.1

Stroking Crowley's wrist, Aziraphale gave an encouraging gesture with his bottle. “Go on, dear.”

“Sss... it'ss hard. I'm not supposed to talk about it.”

“Please do try. I... I want to know how to make you happy.” Aziraphale felt his sentiment would have been conveyed better had he not belched unangelically part way through, but you couldn't chug a third of a bottle of wine _and_ speak with poise and eloquence.2

Crowley took a deep breath. “Ok. I'm. I'm not allowed to – to _want_ you.”

This confused the angel somewhat. He sat for a minute in _their_ bathtub, and surveyed _his_ demon, before concluding that he was stumped. “Dearest, you moved in with me! You – you said you loved me...”3

“I do!” Crowley shouted immediately. “I've always loved you! I'm just... I thought you'd never love me back.”

“I know, love. I'm sorry I made you wait so long. But we're together now...”

Crowley's bottle was far too empty by this point. He dropped it over the side of the bath, and grabbed the newly opened4 bottle from Aziraphale's hand. After a deep swig, he spoke again.

“You don't get it. Six _thousand_ years, and I thought I'd never get this. Get you. So I switched it off.”

“Switched what off?” Aziraphale was barely less confused than when he'd entered the bathroom, but at least Crowley was speaking to him again. He gave the demon's hand another encouraging squeeze.

“This.” Crowley jabbed at his groin with the bottle. “Ow. I've never... for six thousand years I've never let myself.”

“Crowley, are you saying that for all this time – all these years – you've been repressing your sexual feelings for me?”

“Yes!” Crowley looked momentarily elated by having successfully conveyed his innermost thoughts almost entirely through the power of ellipsis.

Then he spotted his angel's face. Aziraphale was horrorstruck. Wordlessly, Crowley passed him the bottle. “Welcome to my world...”

1Unsurprisingly, he was disappointed in this

2But not through lack of trying

3At this point, Aziraphale's face was indescribably distraught. Try imagining a kicked puppy, and then steal its favourite toy

4And yet rapidly emptying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valvopus: I'll show you my innermost secrets, if you'll show me yours...


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley clung to the sides of the toilet bowl as he coughed up bile. The experiment was not going well.

After his drunken confession the night before,1 he'd really wanted just to slither into a hole, seal it up and hide for the next six thousand years or so. But Aziraphale had refused him that option. Worse, he'd made a _proposal_.

It seemed obvious to Aziraphale that Crowley needed both to get to know his own body, and build some self-confidence. And, as he explained in embarrassing detail to his demon, the best way to start would be with _practising onanism._

Crowley had agreed, on condition that Aziraphale never call it that again. So he'd shut himself in the bedroom with some lube and an air of doom, and got started.

Ten minutes later, he made a break for the bathroom. While he was busy vomiting, he heard Aziraphale approach from behind, radiating helpful anxiety.

“Is everything quite alright, love?”

Crowley took a minute to answer. “No, Zira, everything is _not_ alright. I'm puking my guts up here.”

“Oh... Is it because you were, um -”2

“ _Yes.”_

“Oh. Um, are you sure you were doing it right?”

“ _No,_ Aziraphale, I am bloody _certain_ that I was not doing it right. Do I _look_ turned on right now?”

“Well, no. Maybe we should try a different approach. I've heard there are 'videos'3 you can watch online.”

“Fuck's sake, Zira, porn's not going to help. I just... it's hard. My whole brain's telling me I'm under attack or something. I – I don't think this is going to work.”

Aziraphale frowned, and rubbed Crowley's back solicitously. “We'll think of something.”

Crowley carefully stood up, and rinsed his mouth out in the sink. After he'd gargled and spat a couple of times, he began to feel a bit less horrific.

“How about we get you some peppermint tea?”

“Sure, angel.” He could physically feel Aziraphale's urge to look after him. Some tea probably wouldn't hurt too much.

Crowley let himself be led into the kitchen, and be directed towards a chair. He sat down bonelessly, and feebly watched as Aziraphale fussed around with the kettle and teabags.

When Aziraphale finally pushed a mug into his hands, Crowley clasped it and felt the almost-painful heat grounding him. He sighed.

“You're gonna make me talk about it, aren't you?”

“Only if you want to, my dear. I know this is a lot for you to process all at once. Please tell me if I'm going too fast.”

Crowley laughed bleakly at this. “It's ok, we can talk about it. I... I do want to, you know. With you. I just think maybe I'm broken.”

“Oh love, that's not true.” Aziraphale knelt at Crowley's feet, and reached up to stroke his face. “I'm here for you. Do you think you can tell me what happened?”

“Yeah. It was ok when I was just thinking about stuff. About you. But then when I started touching myself everything went crazy. I could _feel_ my heartbeat. Then I started drowning in sweat, and that's when I ran for the bathroom...”

Aziraphale kept stroking his demon's face sympathetically. “I'm sorry love, I thought it would be less stressful to try things on your own, but clearly not... Do you think you can tell me what you think would work better?”

Crowley battled for a minute between bottling everything up as he usually did, or actually telling Aziraphale what he needed.

“Maybe – maybe instead of making everything about me, we could focus on you instead. It might be easier for me to learn how to make you happy, and enjoy that instead?”4

“My dear, that sounds delightful.”

1Crowley really wished he didn't remember every single word of that exchange

2It could be a struggle to come up with acceptable vocabulary on the spot

3Crowley could practically hear the punctuation slotting into place

4At this point, Crowley's face turned pink from the strain of actually expressing wants and needs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valvopus: lube and a sense of doom? Tell me you don't want me...


	4. Chapter 4

Crowley exhaled deeply. “So... where do we start?”

“Somewhere comfortable. In bed, I think. Kissing.”

Lying fully clothed on the bed together while he tried not to think about vomiting didn't strike Crowley as being overly comfortable, but Aziraphale sounded confident enough for the both of them. He followed the angel blindly into the bedroom.

“Shh, it's alright, dear.” Aziraphale stroked Crowley's hand and encouraged him to get under the covers.

It was awkward at first, but slowly Crowley's self-consciousness ebbed away. Aziraphale was stroking the nape of his neck reassuringly, and Crowley's brain was too busy melting into a puddle to feel overly anxious as they kissed.

Aziraphale would break away sometimes to murmur encouragement in his ear. “You're doing _so_ well, my love. You're so beautiful...” Crowley didn't believe it, but it was comforting nonetheless.

He panicked when Aziraphale mentioned getting undressed. But the angel kept stroking his hair and neck, even while the other hand miracled away Aziraphale's clothing. Crowley stayed awkwardly dressed, but his angel didn't seem to mind.

Crowley tried not to giggle hysterically when Aziraphale checked he was ok. They were _miles_ from Crowley's roadmap of what he considered to be ok. He didn't want to stop though.1 Mostly he just desperately wanted not to do anything wrong.

When Aziraphale began to touch himself, Crowley couldn't help but break off from kissing to stare downwards. It felt surreal, but the warm touch at the back of his neck kept him anchored.

He hadn't even looked at Aziraphale's cock before this, and now he couldn't make his eyes look anywhere else. It was, frankly, intimidatingly huge. It definitely beggared certain questions about the future. And why was he salivating?2 He quickly turned away from this thought, in favour of staring some more at the angel's crotch.

Aziraphale checked in with him again, and Crowley nodded blindly. He didn't know if he was ok or not really, but this was a fascinating new experience. He was engrossed enough not to fully feel the panic rising in his brain.

He listened as the angel's breath started to shorten, almost panting. The hand at the back of his neck gripped harder. Lying next to Aziraphale, Crowley was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him again. Forcing himself not to overthink things, he leaned over and pressed his lips to Aziraphale's.

The angel responded hungrily. Crowley found himself being devoured by Aziraphale's tongue and teeth. Before he could work himself into too much of a panic though, Aziraphale began shaking all over, and Crowley could just see out of the corner of his vision great spurts of come falling all over the angel's chest.

As Aziraphale's kisses became more gentle, Crowley could feel his own heart rate pick up again, free of distractions. But... he'd come this far. So Crowley pulled away from his angel's lips, and instead licked a great stripe of ejaculate up from Aziraphale's chest. Judging by the quivering this caused, his attentions were not unwelcome.

Aziraphale haltingly asked “Crowley, are you...” but fell quiet, as the demon continued to lap up every drop of come on the angel's chest. When he was done cleaning Aziraphale's stomach, Crowley darted his tongue out to lick the tip of the angel's penis once, twice, and kissed it. Then, face burning with sudden embarrassment, he buried his face in Aziraphale's armpit.

“Crowley...”

Vague noises emanated from the angelic armpit.

“I just wanted you to know, that was wonderful. Thank you, my dear.”

Crowley burrowed further into Aziraphale's side. Apparently, this was his life now. He dimly felt the angel stroking his hair, murmuring praises once more. But for now, it felt safer to stay hidden away. So he stayed there, breathing in his angel's scent, until gradually he fell asleep.

1Well, mostly he didn't want to stop

2Answers on a postcard, please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valvopus: *licks suggestively*


	5. Chapter 5

“Crowley, wake up!” Aziraphale gently shook his demon's shoulders.

Crowley woke up, to find himself hyperventilating. He clutched at Aziraphale's arms in a panic.

“Shh, calm down. You don't actually need to breathe, you know...” When this caused Crowley's breathing to sound even more panicked, Aziraphale quickly changed tacks. “Ok, try breathing _slowly_. In for three, out for three.” The angel counted out the numbers, and watched as the demon's chest stopped heaving quite so rapidly.

“I was dreaming about you...”

Aziraphale looked down at Crowley's still-noticeable erection.

“I should think so! Who else would you be dreaming about?!”1 There was a pause, while Aziraphale recollected that he was supposed to be comforting Crowley, not interrogating him. “Oh, I mean... do you want to talk about it?” The angel pulled his face into a more sympathetic expression.

Crowley glared at him a little suspiciously. “You won't laugh or be offended?”

Composing his face virtuously, Aziraphale promised not to laugh.

“Ok. Um, I was tied up... And you were beating me.” Seeing an odd look on his angel's face, Crowley rapidly continued. “Obviously I know it was a dream, you'd never do either of those things...2 But in the dream, you'd got a riding crop and soaked it in holy water. And you were beating me with it. It was awful, Aziraphale. And then I woke up...”

“Crowley...”

“Yeah?”

“Are you telling me you got turned on by the image of me hurting you with holy water?”

“What?! No! Why would you even think that?”

Aziraphale nodded at Crowley's crotch region. “You were having a wet dream. I woke you up because I think it triggered a panic attack.”

“What.”

“It's nothing to be ashamed about! Lots of people have um... fantasies.”

“I do _not_ have fantasies! I don't even have a sex life! And _you_ can stop that down there, nobody's impressed, alright?” Crowley snarled the last part at his penis.

“Are you... talking to your penis?”

“Yes, and?”

“It's not a houseplant, dear, maybe you could be nicer to it?” Aziraphale paused to think. “Unless... Crowley, have you ever come across the term BDSM?”

“Of course I have! I'm a virgin, not a fucking moron.”

“And what do you think of it?” Aziraphale tried to be patient.

“I dunno, seems like humans will get off on anything?”

“Yes, but Crowley... do you have fantasies about me hurting you? It's ok if you do.”

Crowley tried to simultaneously glare at Aziraphale, and turn his head away to ignore him. The attempt did not go well.

“Ok fine, _maybe_. Fucking have a good laugh at me then.”

“Crowley, I'm not laughing. I want to know how to make you happy.” Aziraphale caressed his lover's cheek, before dragging his manicured nails down the demon's neck. “Would this make you happy?”

The answering whine as a quivering Crowley clutched at the angel's arm told Aziraphale all he needed to know.

“Well! This certainly gives me something to think about!” Aziraphale looked rather like the cat who'd got the cream.

Crowley sighed and drew a shuddering breath. “I'm doomed, aren't I?”

1Angels are allowed their insecurities too

2Aziraphale coughed and looked away at this point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valvopus, shall I sign you up for the holy water treatment?


	6. Chapter 6

“Crowley, come out of the bathroom.”

Silence.

“Crowley, if you don't come out of the bathroom, I'll have to make life very unpleasant for you. I'll -” Aziraphale's voice trailed off, as he contemplated the inherent problems with threatening a partner who's into BDSM.1

More silence.

“Well alright. I won't threaten you. If you come out of the bathroom, I'll give you... three of these chocolate covered coffee beans.”

The lock slid back. After a pause, a very wary Crowley opened the door and peeked round it. Aziraphale offered up a bean, and the demon parted his lips suspiciously. There was a crunch, and the door opened a little bit wider.

“Ok, fine. I'll come out.” Crowley slunk out of the bathroom, ungraciously opening his mouth to receive a second and a third bean. “You're still not giving me a hand job though.”

Aziraphale sighed. The campaign to get Crowley to accept pleasure was not going well. Clearly, it was time to change tacks.

“How about we try a different approach?”

“Like what?”

“Well... I've half a mind to put you across my knees and spank you.”

“Sounds a bit tame for a demon, doesn't it?”

“Patience, my dear! We do need to start somewhere.”

“Fine. Just no being nice to me.”2

“Absolutely not.”

Aziraphale led his sullen demon back into the bedroom, and sat himself on the edge of the bed.

“Trousers down, please.”

Crowley obeyed with great suspicion, and allowed Aziraphale to bend him over his knee.

“Remember, I can stop any time you like, if it gets too much for you. You remember what we discussed about safewords?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember. Can we just get on with it?”

“Manners, please.” Aziraphale suddenly brought his palm down onto Crowley's bare arse, with a loud clap.

“Fuck!”

“Not too much for you, I hope!”

“No, no... you just caught me by surprise, that's all.”

“Would you like another?”

“...Yeah?”

“Ask me politely.”

“Would you _please_ hit me again, Aziraphale?”

Ignoring the sarcasm, the angel obliged. Crowley's body jerked at the strength of the hit.

“Another?”

“Yes. _Please_...”

The routine continued, and Crowley began to pant and twitch with the mounting pleasure of being struck. Aziraphale was alternating cheeks so as not to overwhelm the demon all at once, but the pace was beginning to show on him. Both arse cheeks were flushed red and starting to swell up nicely.

“More?”

“ _Please_...” Crowley was almost sobbing by this point.

Aziraphale obliged, smacking Crowley full force. The demon began jerking and twitching, and Aziraphale had to hold him in place over his knees. The angel gripped Crowley's arse tightly, as the demon made confused sounds and struggled feebly to escape. There was a satisfying spreading warmth coming from the demon's crotch.

Crowley was still making quiet whimpering noises some minutes later. When it became clear that this wasn't going to stop, Aziraphale lifted the curled up demon off his lap, and deposited him on the bed. He then wrapped himself protectively around Crowley's back, keeping the demon firmly in place, in case he decided to make a break for it again.

After another half hour, Crowley might have realised he was milking it a bit.3 He finally spoke, in a rather wobbly voice.

“Did I just...?”

“That's right, dearest.”

“Huh. Well, that was a thing.”

A bout of swift miracling later, and the two were curled up more comfortably in bed, in tartan and black silk pyjamas respectively. Aziraphale hugged his demon closely, and whispered proud words into his ear.

1Won't someone please think of the sadists...

2As we all know, 'nice' is a four letter word

3Especially judging by the wet patch on Aziraphale's trousers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valvopus: see what happens if you ask nicely!


	7. Chapter 7

Crowley was finding new purpose in life. On his knees, mouth and throat filled with the glorious weight of Aziraphale's cock. _This_ was what he'd been made to do.

It hadn't been entirely plain sailing.1 But he was learning. How to wrap his lips protectively around his too-sharp teeth. Training himself to enjoy the sensation of Aziraphale's thick cock sliding down his throat. Learning a teasing rhythm that left the angel groaning in aroused frustration.

The _noises_ Aziraphale made. This was better than tiramisu. Better than perfectly ripe raspberries.2 This might in fact be the best thing ever to happen in Crowley's long and eventful existence.

Aziraphale's hands were both tangled in Crowley's hair. The demon in question was now fanatically certain that this was the only place they belonged. He could feel when Aziraphale's hands tightened in excitement, twisting and tugging at his hair. And when he let the angel slide for too long out of his mouth, Aziraphale would impatiently pull him back where he belonged.

This was _perfection_. And Crowley could feel his own arousal mounting. He was ok with it, could focus on Aziraphale's pleasure and just let his own enjoyment increase in the background. Maybe next time he'd try acting the brat more: push his angel's buttons and see if he could make him lose control, fuck his mouth violently. _That_ sounded like a fun experiment.

But right now, he was going to worship Aziraphale like he was the centre of the universe. Like nothing else mattered. Just the two of them locked together. This was worth every single panic attack. Every time he'd ran, and Aziraphale had found him and pulled him close.

And _now_ he understood the joys of having a dextrous forked tongue. How Aziraphale gasped and clutched at him when he flicked at the tip of his penis, or wrapped his tongue all the way round and _vibrated_. Crowley's whole life made sense now.3 He just had to give Aziraphale pleasure. It didn't matter that he knew he didn't deserve any of this. All that mattered was making his angel happy, and if as a by-product Crowley was happy too, that was ok. He could live with that.

Right now he was redefining the parameters of what happiness could look like. Worshipping Aziraphale like this, feeling his cock slide in and out of his throat, this was a wholly unexpected new level of bliss. Crowley was avoiding thinking about his own body's reaction to all this, but he was still dimly aware that every part of his body was singing in contented lust. The pain in his legs from kneeling too long on the hard wooden floor now felt like bliss. Those hands tangled in his hair felt exquisite. Crowley was starting to wonder how much longer he could cope with feeling this good.

Fortunately this wouldn't be an issue for much longer. He could sense Aziraphale's near-peaking pleasure, and increased his pace in reaction. Soon he was almost slamming his own face into the angel's stomach, taking Aziraphale's full length inside him. Crowley was feeling frenzied at the thought of bringing his angel to a climax. He just had to keep going, not fuck this up. He mentally shouted down his anxiety for _that_ thought.

And then Aziraphale was spasming down his throat, juddering and clutching as he came. Crowley whimpered as he held the angel's twitching cock in place, before finally letting it slip out of his mouth.

So _that_ was what real heaven felt like.

1Attested to by Aziraphale's startled cry of “ _Teeth_ , Crowley!”

2It might even be better than that time he watched Aziraphale eating an eclair filled with fresh cream in the park

3Crowley had heard of hyperbole, but didn't see how it could ever relate to him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valvopus: _eclairs_


	8. Chapter 8

Aziraphale lounged on the bed, doodling lazily on Crowley's bare chest. Said demon was shuddering and hissing at the light strokes. It turned out that if you heavily diluted holy water, and then painted it onto a demon's skin, it produced some very interesting effects.

They'd both been nervous when they first tried it, and Crowley's initial gasp of pain had alarmed the angel. But when Crowley gripped his wrist, and begged him not to stop, Aziraphale had happily obliged.

The calligraphy brush added a certain sense of artistry, Aziraphale felt. As he drew with delicate strokes, Crowley's skin turned red, shiny and burnt. It was strangely relaxing, feeling Crowley's taut body under him, tuning in to the intense moans and hisses. Aziraphale flicked the brush over the demon's prominent ribcage, and smiled in satisfaction at the emerging pattern. Crowley was behaving himself beautifully, and not for the first time Aziraphale was feeling blessed by his freedom to admire his gorgeous body.

He'd blindfolded Crowley with a silk tie. Aziraphale was already learning how much his demon craved giving up control to him.1 Crowley was struggling to keep still now, and Aziraphale decided to draw things to a close with a few final caresses of the brush.

Carefully putting the brush aside, Aziraphale instead began to gently trace his hands along the lines he'd scalded into Crowley's skin. When the demon moaned appreciatively, he began to press harder, until Crowley was writhing in pain and pleasure.

When Aziraphale began to dig in with his knuckles and knead the demon's stomach, Crowley let out an adorable squeak, then stiffened self-consciously. Aziraphale leant forward and kissed Crowley on the lips.

“Would you like me to take your blindfold off now?”

Crowley nodded in assent, and raised himself up on his elbows to give Aziraphale access to the knot.

The silk tie slipped away, and Crowley blinked in the daylight. He then set to examining his body, running his own fingers along the lines Aziraphale had made. There were swirls and flourishes, and delicate floral patterns. Aziraphale had created a work of art in smooth, red-burnt skin.

Crowley's fingers stopped tracing when he discovered some writing encircled with a heart on his chest. When he angled his head to read it, he found that it said, in beautiful calligraphic script, 'Property of A.Z. Fell.'

He fell quiet, no longer making the tiny appreciative noises Aziraphale had been enjoying so much. This was concerning.

“I - I hope I didn't overstep...” Aziraphale trailed off as Crowley motioned him into silence.

After a moment the demon spoke. “I like it,” he muttered. “It's... it's true. I'm yours.” Crowley was blushing furiously by this point, and very much avoiding making eye contact.

Aziraphale caught him by the chin, and leaned in for a possessive kiss. “You are _mine_ , and I will protect you.” Crowley nodded fervently. “Now, shall we heal you up again?”

“Can you leave it? Just for now, I mean. I like it...”

“Hmm, another ten minutes can't hurt too much. But then we're getting you back to normal again.”

Crowley smiled softly as he continued to trace the lines and whorls, feeling the changed texture of his skin.

After a few minutes Crowley spoke again. “I'm ready.”

Aziraphale gently passed his hands over the demon's body, healing as he went. “There. How do you feel?”

“I feel amazing. Like I'm floating. But that's not what I meant.”

“Hmm?”

“I meant... I meant I'm ready. For you to fuck me...”

1And Aziraphale was nothing if not indulgent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valvopus: your name is branded on my soul...


	9. Chapter 9

Crowley darted down the hall in a naked dash for the bathroom. Across the threshold, he turned to slam the door shut. The door, which was conspicuous by its absence. He glared in suspicion at the approaching angel.

“What happened to the door?” Crowley was gritting his teeth.

“I um... I miracled it away.” Aziraphale had the good grace to look ashamed. “I tried to bring it back, but it – it wouldn't come back.”1

Crowley glowered at his angel. If he kept glaring, he might stave off the acute shame of having bolted from the bedroom yet again.

“Come back to bed?” Aziraphale offered his hand.

“Yeah, alright.”

On the bed once again, Aziraphale tried to soothe his demon by running his hands gently over his skinny body. “You're very beautiful, you know.”

Crowley still hadn't stopped glaring.2 “Look, can we just skip the – the foreplay, and get to it?”

“No, dearest, we absolutely cannot. You wouldn't make me skip my appetiser, would you?” With this, Aziraphale leant forward and nibbled on Crowley's right nipple.

Crowley yelped, and clenched his hand round the back of Aziraphale's neck. He feebly tried to pull the angel away, but with little success. Aziraphale just reached with a hand to tweak the other nipple.

“Fuck, _Zira_. I thought angels weren't supposed to play with their food?”

Drawing his head back up, Aziraphale smiled. “I've rather decided to give myself over to temptation.”

Then, pulling himself further down the bed, Aziraphale began devouring Crowley's cock.

Said demon began swearing incoherently, and thrashed around with all his useless limbs.3

Aziraphale came up for air. “Now, now, if you keep on like this, I'll only have to tie you up.”

He studied the blush spreading across Crowley's face.

“Would you like that?”

Crowley stayed silent, eyes scrunched shut.

“Nod for yes, shake for no. Would you like me to tie you up?”

After a long moment's pause, Crowley jerked his head in assent.

Aziraphale miracled some dark red rope onto the bed.

“Some other time, I'm going to take all day over this part. But for now...” He caught Crowley's wrists, and tethered them separately in a few practised gestures. Both ropes were then secured to a corner each of the bed. Securely, but not too tightly for this time.

Aziraphale began on Crowley's ankles, These, he tied more loosely to the remaining corners of the bed. It wouldn't do to render his demon inaccessible.

He moved to caress Crowley's head. The demon was shivering a little.

“Now, where were we?” And with that he resumed sucking Crowley off in a leisurely fashion, making all those all-too-familiar obscene food noises that Crowley had memorised over the years.

Once Aziraphale was satisfied that he had Crowley's full gasping attention, he licked the demon's full length for a final time, before surfacing again.

“Hitch your legs up for me please, dear.”

Still shaking, Crowley obeyed.

“Now, this bit I'm going to do very slowly. And I want you to tell me if you need me to stop. Give me a little kick with your leg if you can't speak. Do you understand?”

Crowley nodded. He was floating somewhere on the edge of comprehension, but he could feel his body tethered to the bed, and Aziraphale knelt between his legs.

“Good.” Aziraphale bent down again, and this time lapped with his tongue at Crowley's anus. The demon moaned a little in response. Taking this as encouragement, Aziraphale kept licking, sometimes with broad swipes of the tongue, and other times with feather-light brushes. Crowley struggled a little at his arm restraints.

“You're doing _so_ well for me. I'm very proud of you, Crowley.”

Aziraphale reached for a bottle of lube. He warmed a little in his hands, and then stroked delicately at Crowley's hole with one finger. When his demon had seemed to relax a little, he pushed in with the first finger.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Crowley squirmed a little, but soon settled down again. Aziraphale began gently working his finger in and out, paying close attention to how Crowley's body responded.

When he added a second finger, Crowley let out a broken whimper. With his free hand, Aziraphale squeezed his thigh reassuringly. When he started to move the hand part-buried inside Crowley again, the demon pushed himself down the bed a little, onto Aziraphale's fingers.

With a pleased sigh, Aziraphale crooked his fingers and stroked inside his demon. Crowley continued making inarticulate noises, and pushing himself further against Aziraphale's hand.

By the time Aziraphale had added a third finger, Crowley was barely conscious of his own existence other than in relation to his angel. He'd lost all self-awareness, not even to feel embarrassed at the mewling noises Aziraphale was drawing from him.

When Aziraphale finally pulled out and paid attention to his own cock, it was almost painfully hard from seeing Crowley laid out in front of him. He made gentle shushing noises as he guided himself into his demon at long last.

As Aziraphale leant down over Crowley's body to bring themselves face to face, the demon seemed finally to come back to reality with a dreamy smile. Aziraphale kissed him, and began slowly fucking him, alternating between bending down for more kisses and leaning back to admire Crowley's gorgeous, ecstatic face.

Neither of them would have been able to say how much time passed like this. But gradually Aziraphale picked up the pace, and drew hitching gasps from his demon's throat. Spurred on by Crowley's reactions, he began thrusting harder and faster, trying not to lose the rhythm.

When Aziraphale finally came deep inside Crowley, he collapsed on top of his demon, filled with spent pleasure. But after a moment, the angel picked himself up a little, to sink his teeth hard into the meat of Crowley's shoulder.

With a startled cry, Crowley began convulsing, and spurted his own come between their two sweaty, sticky bodies.

Aziraphale was tempted to crawl down the bed to lick the come from his exhausted demon, but restrained himself for this time. He waved away all the semen and sweat, as well as the ropes still binding Crowley's limbs.

Then he came to lie next to his demon, gently cradling Crowley's head in his arms.

“I'm so proud of you, my love. Rest, now.” And he stroked Crowley's hair and face, murmuring praise into his ears. After a while, he'd go fetch the demon a cup of coffee, and watch as he slowly stopped trembling. And a few hours after that, Crowley would eventually recover the power of speech enough to whisper back a “Thank you.”

1The door had probably gone somewhere less embarrassing

2Aziraphale earned a gold star for not pointing out how adorable this was

3It was a minor miracle that he didn't give in and just turn into a snake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valvopus, I've been thinking of you this whole time... <3


End file.
